


The ZoSan Corpus

by LadyElocin



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Drabbles, Drama, Humor, Hurt, M/M, One-Shot, Romance, mature - Freeform, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2018-12-06 05:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11594292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyElocin/pseuds/LadyElocin
Summary: Just a bunch of prompts or one-shots for your ZoSan heart. :)





	1. Afternoon Sake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by Eris_Allisti:
> 
> "Lazy afternoon, sharing a drink and some peace. Bonus points if there's no dialogue but these two seem to have a conversation anyway. Relationship implied preferred, but I'll leave that up to you. ;)"
> 
> I made the setting after Thriller Bark and I added a few conversations because I think the two men just couldn't help to be snarky at each other. Haha! Anyway, enjoy! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any prompt request, please go to the REQUEST PAGE (Chapter 1). Thank you! :)

**Prompt #1: Afternoon Sake**

* * *

  
Zoro was staring back and forth between the delicious bottle of sake being offered graciously to him and the blond man with an annoying curly eyebrow who was standing beside him, holding the bottle with a bored expression on his face. Zoro arched an eyebrow questioningly but the other man just rolled his visible eye at him and jerked the bottle at his direction. "Take it."

  
"What's up, Cook?" Zoro eyed him suspiciously, taking the bottle of sake as Sanji plopped down beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world. They were at the back of the ship, leaning against the Adam wood railing and sitting lazily under the afternoon sun.

  
Sanji had his own bottle, but he had a glass with him to fill up unlike Zoro who preferred to drink directly from the bottle. The cook was such a sassy prick about table manners and etiquette. Heck, they were fucking pirates alright. Zoro didn't give a damn about those stupid things.

  
Zoro took a long swig from his bottle, gobbling the bitter liquid down his throat. He released the bottle from his mouth with a 'pop' and a satisfied sigh, wiping his lips dry through the back of his hand. Sanji cringed at the sloppy display of behavior but the cook just lighted a cigarette, taking a sinful drag of smoke before placing his arm on top of his bent right leg, tapping the ashes with gentle flicks of his thumb.

  
The cook was looking away, to the opposite direction, towards the calm blue sea. A day had passed when they finally made their way out of the thick dark mists of the Florian Triangle. Zoro woke up in the infirmary this morning, having Chopper to do more checkups on him before he could finally go out of the room. Zoro always thought that the infirmary was suffocating—it just wasn't the kind of place that he would willingly haul himself into. He could manage a few scratches or a few blows, he didn't actually need any medical attention.

He saw the blond move beside him. Sanji poured sake on his glass, filling it up to the brim, a few liquid splashing as Sanji dragged the glass towards his mouth. Both men drank in silence, enjoying the occasional spray of the ocean against their skin, the warm rays of the sun, and the satisfying company of sake in their hands.

  
Zoro was down to more than half of his sake when the blond killed his cigarette on his ashtray. It was unusual for the blond to be this quiet, to smoke his cancer stick this slow, or to accompany Zoro for a drink in his own free will. He sometimes had a drink with the blond, but those were the times when the crew was having a party or celebration, and not in a casual occasion like this.

 

"What's on your mind, shitty cook?"

  
Zoro saw a slight twitch of the blond's shoulder, barely visible to almost everyone but not under his watch. The blond scratched his scalp for a moment, his hair obstructing Zoro from perceiving any expression on the cook's face.

 

"Nothing," Sanji said plainly.

  
"Bullshit," Zoro retorted, taking another long swig from his bottle.

  
"I was scared."

  
Zoro almost threw the liquid out. The swordsman recoiled from the railing, coughing a few couple of breaths and wiping the spillage from his mouth. The blond remained seated on his spot, blond strands hiding half of his face and swaying along the gentle breeze of the sea.

 

"What?" Zoro asked.

  
"I thought you died," Sanji replied with that blank expression. "When I woke up from those shitty rubbles and found you gone with only your swords lying on the ground, I really thought that you died." Sanji's bent leg sprawled on the wooden floor, dragging his whole body as he leaned back on the railing, his head resigned against the Adam wood and void of any form of energy, just letting himself lay there idly. "And when I saw you standing amidst that large pool of blood, bleeding so fucking bad, I thought..."

  
_I thought I have lost you._

 

The unspoken words hung heavily inside Sanji's throat, thus he swallowed thickly, letting a moment of silence dawn between them before sighing heavily. "Finish my sake, Marimo. I'll be going back."

  
The blond sat up properly, his right hand planting on the floorboards, ready to leave. But the blond froze when he felt something warm and rough above his hand. The cook's head turned to the side, allowing his blue eye to be visible to the swordsman since the moment he sat down beside him. Zoro leaned closer, snatching Sanji's sake beside the man's thigh and straightly drinking from the bottle. Zoro was looking anywhere except Sanji. The blond felt a tingling sensation from where Zoro's fingers laid lazily at the back of his hand.

  
"Oi, Marimo. Get your hand off—"

  
"Shut up." Zoro bent his right leg, planted his elbow on his knee and took a swig from his bottle. "I'm drinking."

  
Sanji stared at the man for a moment, taking any sign of unusual expression from his face and Sanji would have been fooled completely by the man's poker face if it weren't for the red hue tinting his ears. Sanji's heart did something weird inside him, spreading warmth across his chest, flushing his cheeks and tingling the tips of his fingers.

  
Sanji's lips trembled as he fought a stupid smile threatening to be plastered on his face. But he failed, his lips finally giving up and curving into a smile that almost split his face in half. The blond looked away, that stupid blush staining his cheeks as he relaxed himself against the railing.

 

The blond moved his hand, his long, slender fingers finding the gaps between Zoro's calloused and rough ones, filling the spaces between perfectly like a puzzle, and it felt like it was the most natural thing in the world—the swordsman's hand resting on top of his, their fingers intertwined and sharing the same space like it was their own little secret.

  
Zoro looked at him at this sudden action, but the blond just shrugged the reaction off. "Well, hurry up, idiot marimo. I don't have all day," the cook said, feinting annoyance but unable to hide the shitty smile on his lips.

  
The swordsman's eyebrow rose, noticing the blond's contagious smile, and a stupid grin began to stretch across his own lips. "Heh," he said playfully, "whatever you say, Curly."

  
Zoro took a mouthful of sake, indulging himself to the bitter taste of the sinful liquor on his tongue, feeling the peacefulness of the deep blue sea around the ship, gratifying himself with the soft and warm pressure of skin between his fingers, and Zoro knew that it was the cook's presence and tender touch that calmed him best after all.

- _fin_ -


	2. I love you and I want to touch you, but I can't

_A short tumblr drabble..._

* * *

 

**\- Sanji's POV -**

Whenever I see him lounging on the deck, his back against the railing, legs folded and arms tucked behind his head, the warm rays bathing his sun-kissed skin, making his green hair glow, I want to touch him.

But I can't.

Whenever I see him training in the crow's nest, lifting those pounds of heavy weights like feathers, looking stern and reserved, his body glistening with sweat, breathing calmly, I want to touch him.

But I can't.

Whenever I fight with him, his voice loud and annoying, shouting at me, angry eyes flaring, I want to touch him.

But I can't.

Whenever I see him happy, holding a good bottle of sake to his liking, or eating my handmade onigiri for his late night watch, smiling so gratefully and warming up my heart, I want to touch him.

But I can't.

Whenever I remember that time I stood between him and Kuma, resolving to sacrifice my own life in his stead, saving him, saving his dream, wanting one last touch because I love him.

I love him.

_But I can't._


	3. Unspoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tumblr prompt for a pining Zoro and oblivious Sanji.

**UNSPOKEN**

* * *

 

**\- Zoro's POV -**

The first time I saw him, he was this annoying young blond who put his dream behind for his old man. He was wearing this luxurious black suit everywhere and no one would think that he was up for a fight until his sole kissed your face. 

We entered the Grand Line, smashing that barrel of liquor with our feet, as we shouted our ridiculous dreams under the raging storm.

We bickered a lot. We fought a lot. He spat stupid nonsense at me and I lashed out at him. It had always been that way... until that moment came.

I resolved to die for my crew, to save my captain from his imminent death from the hands of that shichibukai. But he was there. He stood tall in front of me, shielding me from my death and providing a fragile barrier between me and my captor.

"Take my life instead," he said, his whole form shaking and vulnerable.

Something inside me burnt and provided fuel for my dying flame. Thus, I stood up with my newfound strength and saved the man who was supposed to die for me.

 _"I won't let him die,"_ I said to myself.

Then I woke up, wrapped up in tight bandages and peppered with small cuts — these fresh wounds serving as a reminder of my painful sacrifice.

When our eyes met, he didn't say a word. He just stared and then looked away like nothing had happened. But something _did_. At least for me.

I began to notice small, insignificant things from him: how he gently bit the filter of his cigarette; how the corner of his blue eye wrinkled when he smiled; how his blond hair swayed on one side of his face when he moved, and how long and strong his legs were with the promise of raw strength in every fiber of his muscles.

I began to dream of him, abandoning me awake in the solitude of the night. I began to think of him, day after day, every nightfall, keeping me from sleep as I kept watch on the calm, dark ocean with only the moon as my companion.

I stole glances at him when he wasn't looking. I pretended to argue with him but in truth, I just wanted to talk with him — to hear that low baritone which calmed the turmoil inside my chest. I pretended to fight with him for the sole purpose of being able to touch him, even just an accidental brush of skin against skin or a light scrape.

I was so confused. He had no clue what he was doing to me, how messed up I had been because of him. I tried to distance myself, to save myself from falling deeper into a very dangerous territory. He noticed. But I pretended not to care.

He gave me bottles of sake willingly every night watch. He cooked onigiri for me for my afternoon training. And he glanced at me everytime he thought that I wasn't looking.

We hadn't fought for a few weeks and even he would know that something was wrong. He tried to talk to me but it just ended up in a battle of insults and hurtful words. I said I had enough and turned my back on him. I was about to walk away when he held my hand.

I turned my head around in shock and saw his mournful eye staring at his polished black shoes. His forehead creased and he bit the end of his cigarette nervously.

"Don't leave," he said.

I sighed and shook my head. "You don't understand."

His eye met mine and my heart skipped a beat at the sudden spill of emotion from that warm, blue gaze. "You're wrong. I understand."

He took a step closer, pulling his cigarette from his lips and eliminating the gap between us as he rested his head on my shoulder. "I'm such a fool," he said, his voice muffled on my shirt, "I'm sorry. But I understand now."

My heart jumped on my throat as I felt him intertwine his fingers with mine. I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes as I inhaled the sweet scent of his blond hair.

We hadn't spoken another word after that, completely satisfied with the close contact and soft touches. We hadn't said anything about what we feel, no words of _'I love you'_ or _'I'm in love with you.'_

Just soft whispers of "damn cook" and "shitty swordsman" but we both knew that at that moment, our hearts were indeed connected.

\- _fin_


	4. Reason

Also posted on [Tumblr.](https://lady-elocin.tumblr.com/post/170719172335/reason-cook-sanjis-knife-froze-taking-his)

* * *

 

“Cook.”

Sanji’s knife froze. Taking his eyes off from the carrots he was working on and glancing over his shoulder, he asked, “What?”

Zoro was staring at him seriously like he was some kind of unknown specimen, examining him, reading him. “Why do you love me?”

There was silence inside the galley. The swordsman patiently waited for him to answer, seated on a bar stool with his arms crossed above the island counter.

Finally, Sanji spoke, “Why do I have to have a reason?”

Zoro shrugged. “Everything has a reason, shitty cook.”

“Then I don’t have one,” he said as he resumed his job.

“Why?”

“Because, Idiot Marimo,” he put the knife down and faced the stubborn swordsman, “if I have a reason why I love you, and when that reason disappears, does that mean that my feelings will too? I don’t love you for a damn reason. I love you because you are you. Don’t ask me that again.”

Sanji turned around and tried to hide the redness tainting his cheeks. Zoro sat there speechless, the cogs in his brain malfunctioning because of the cook’s upfront confession. After regaining his composure, Zoro stood up and walked behind Sanji, snaking his arms around his hips, leaning closer to his ear, his heart beating a thousand mile and whispering, “Then I won’t give you a damn reason to love me, Cook.” He bit Sanji’s earlobe and the blond shivered. “Because I’m not letting you fall out of love with me.”

Sanji’s heart banged inside his chest as he felt Zoro’s breaths near his ear. “Such big words, Marimo,” he teased.

“You’ll love me forever, Curlybrow.”

Sanji grinned. “Heh. Forever’s a long time, Moss Head.”

Zoro gave out a soft chuckle as his arms went tighter around him, placing his chin on Sanji’s shoulder and saying with a lopsided smile, “Forever’s meant to be long, idiot.”


	5. Cuddles

Also posted on [Tumblr](https://lady-elocin.tumblr.com/post/169377322090/cuddles-cook-what-zoro-moved-a-bit-to-the)

* * *

 

“Cook.”

“What?”

Zoro moved a bit to the side of the couch, tapping the cushion beside him with his palm and saying, “Come ‘ere.”

Sighing, Sanji lowered his knife on the counter and washed his hands under the faucet. “What is it, Marimo?” he asked as he made his way to the couch, wiping his hands dry with a clean dish towel.

When he was within an arm’s length, Zoro gripped his wrist and pulled him down to his side, letting him fall on the couch unceremoniously. He hooked a hand under Sanji’s knees and placed his legs above his thighs.

“Wha—” Sanji said in surprise but Zoro just leaned forward and wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tightly and letting him burn inside his warm embrace.

“Zoro?” the chef asked as his cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink.

“Shut up, Cook.” Zoro closed his eyes and buried his nose on his lover’s blond locks, inhaling and lavishing himself on his sweet scent.

“I need to prepare dinner,” Sanji complained half-heartedly.

“It can wait. Lemme have my nap first.”

With his heart beating loudly inside his chest, Sanji shifted on the couch and wrapped his arms around Zoro’s body, nuzzling his nose and mouth on his lover’s strong neck and gently nipping on his skin.

“Idiot.” He smiled.


	6. Fever

Also posted on [Tumblr](https://lady-elocin.tumblr.com/post/170757972285/fever-sanji-put-a-hand-on-his-forehead-he-was)

* * *

 

Sanji put a hand on his forehead. He was burning.

“Of all times to have a fever,” he sighed as he laid down the plates on the dinner table for the crew’s buffet party.

After calling his nakama and struggling to keep Luffy down around the mountain of food so everyone could have their share, Sanji leaned against the island counter and watched with satisfaction as his nakama gobbled down his masterpiece. His shirt was dampening with sweat but he felt cold and warm at the same time. His head felt like being pounded by a pestle and he could really use a good nap right now.

Except that he couldn’t. Because he had to clean up after the party and damn was it so annoyinf right now.

“Oi.”

Sanji flicked his eyes at the man in front of him. Zoro was holding a rice bowl and weird enough, his eyebrows were knotted in a funny way which could give Sanji an excuse to make a good laugh out of him.

“You look like shit,” the swordsman said.

“Shut up,” he replied, irritated. “You need rice?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Sanji was about to take the bowl from Zoro’s grip when the swordsman moved it out of his reach. He frowned. “Are you here to annoy me, Shithead? I’m not in the mood for—”

“I’ll do it.” And before Sanji could protest, the swordsman moved past him and refilled his bowl without another word.

* * *

 

Sanji felt heavy.

He tried to lift himself up from his bed and as he sat on the edge, his limbs yelled at him in exhaustion, making him feel that they were made of lead and mercury. And to make things worse, he was already 15 minutes late for breakfast. Fuck.

“Oi.”

Lifting his head up, his eyes met Zoro’s. The swordsman was up earlier than him which was very unusual because it wasn’t his watch last night. He was staring down at Sanji seriously and he was holding a steaming bowl of soup in his right hand as his left carried a glass of water.

He shoved the bowl and glass against Sanji before the he could ask what he was up to. “Eat that,” the swordsman said, “it has Chopper’s herbs so it probably tastes like shit.”

Sanji’s lips parted in surprise. Zoro made this? For him?

When Sanji lifted his gaze toward Zoro, he could see the faint redness gracing the swordsman’s face under the dim light in men’s bunkroom. Zoro rubbed a hand on his neck as he looked around anywhere but him. “If you’re sick, just go to Chopper. But then again, you won’t.”

Sanji’s heart skipped. This adorable idiot.

Carefully placing the food and water on the end table beside his bunk, Sanji gathered his strength to push himself up and stand near the swordsman.

“Oi, you shouldn't—”

Sanji silenced him with a kiss. It was soft and gentle, slow and full of emotion. When they parted, Zoro’s eye looked hypnotized, staring at him with sheer desire and affection.

“Thank you, Marimo,” Sanji whispered.

Zoro leaned forward to eliminate the gap between them once again. “Your lips are warm, Cook.”

Sanji chuckled against his lips and put a hand between them before things got heated up. “Of course, idiot. I have a fever. And you better get the hell away from me before you catch whatever shit I have.”

Zoro chuckled and moved his hand away. “Don’t make me laugh. I don’t get sick, Shitty Cook,” he said as he snatched the blond’s lips again, but this time, delving in much deeper.

The next morning after that, Zoro was confined in the infirmary with him and Sanji laughing in amusement like a pair of lovesick idiots.

-fin

* * *

 

For my friend  **[swirlyswirls](http://swirlyswirls.tumblr.com)** because ZoSan fluff keeps her alive.


	7. Sound

Also posted on[Tumblr](https://lady-elocin.tumblr.com/post/171131643165/sound-luffy-said-that-you-told-the-crew-to-leave)

* * *

 

“Luffy said that you told the crew to leave me be, is that right?”

Zoro’s eyebrow rose at Sanji’s question. Dropping his weights on the cold floor of the crows nest, he asked, “You talking about that time in Zou?”

Sanji nodded. “Yeah. That and your big speech about Kaido.”

The swordsman snorted. “It’s true. I did say to leave your ass alone.”

Something constricted inside Sanji’s chest. It was a deep ache fueled with utter disappointment. He was suffocating.

“Why?” the cook asked and his voice sounded strained to his own ears.

“You’re a grown-ass man. You already know what you’re doing. We have our hands full with Kaido and the crew doesn’t need any further conflict with another yonkō.”

Swallowing the lump inside his throat, Sanji managed to ask, “So you won’t care if I don’t come back?”

Zoro looked at him seriously. It was an intense gaze, trenchant and scrutinizing, searching for the tiniest hint of what Sanji was feeling at the moment. And when he found what he was looking for, the swordsman stood properly, sighing deeply as he held his gaze back to the troubled cook in front of him.

“Sanji,” he said and Sanji’s core trembled with the utterance of his name, “as much as I hate your annoying swooning ass, I still care about what shit you do. Even if I said that thing in Zou, it doesn’t mean that I will turn a blind eye to your problem.”

A spark of hope ignited inside Sanji, but when everything was about to burn brightly, when the lush feeling growing inside him was about to utterly consume him, Zoro’s next words extinguished those promising flames, stomping on the ashes, _killing_ the fire.

“You’re my nakama,” Zoro said as sincerity and finality marked his every word, “But I don’t feel that way about you.”

There might have been a moment of silence. Or maybe two. Sanji didn’t know. All he heard was the gentle flick of his lighter, the silent burning of his cigarette as the smoke rushed out of his lungs, his words of “I know” as a pathetic smile was forced on his lips, the ire of the raging storm outside, the rattling of the windowpane and for a second after all those noises, there was _stillness_.

And when the sound resumed, when the world started to move again around him, all Sanji could hear was his chest tearing open and his stubborn heart breaking.

 


End file.
